Even Sparks Fade
by Levity Lirum
Summary: A group of Transformers composed mostly of Younglings and Sparklings managed to escape Cybertron as the most devistating phase of the war began, destroying the Academy and Nursery Sectors. Shader was just one of them, though, granted, the most driven.
1. Prologue: Endings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing recognised as belonging to someone else.**

I was driven to do this fic. Whether I continues it or not depends on how much support I get for it.

* * *

The first time I woke, all I could see were stars and space, all I could feel was tired and cold, all I could hear was silence...

...All I could remember was pain and confusion.

When I woke a second time, I was facing was a field of twisted metal and other debris.

There had been a sound that had woken me, echoing around the empty cold expanse around me...

The sound was familiar, triggering a low, warbling, wordless call from me.

There was silence for a moment before the chittering, whistling call echoed in the space between the debris, followed by a series of other cries joined from within the rended metal of what may have once been a ship.

I twisted and activated my severely weakened thrusters, pushing me towards the debris enough for momentum before cutting out.

I impacted with a large piece of metal and called again, using the piece as leverage to launch my aching, cold frame further in, leaving a small trail of blue liquid behind. The chirping cries got more frantic, allowing me to identify twelve, maybe thirteen, individuals.

As I got close to the nearest cry, I was able to locate a small black metal frame clinging to the remains of a femmebot...

That's right... I remember now...

I was on one of the small ships Chromia had sent out just before the Decepticons attacked. I was in the bay with others when we must have been hit...

Most of the passengers had been matron Femmes, Younglings and Sparklings; even I was a Youngling, though nearly an adult.

The cries I could hear around me were from distressed Sparklings.

The little Sparkling in front of me was barely a newly-sparked, likely running on basic functions and protected by its matron's form.

I repressed my grief and tried to struggle past the cloud of confusion that had overcome my circuits and disorientated me, crooning wordlessly to the Sparkling.

The little frame trembled under the weight of its fear and cries, bright blue optics staring up at me with confusion. When I reached out it grabbed on and clung to my servo, chittering confusedly whilst looking towards its matron.

The femme was little more than a torso; not even her head remained.

I pulled the Sparkling away and moved off towards the next call, doing my best to ignore the wail of the little one cradled against my chassis, his bright optics flickering in distress.

The next two were twins, not quite Younglings but not quite Sparklings anymore. They were both of a frame that would likely make them rather large later in life (probably heavy-hitters or weapons specialists), their burnt-amber plating already scarred and stained by war so early.

"Come." I said, beaconing to them. "The enemy may return. We must save who we can."

The two shared looks, bright-green optics glancing at one another uncertainly, before they released the piece of wall they had taken refuge on, bouncing over to me and curling up against my larger chassis area and around the Sparkling.

"I am Shader. What are your designations?" I asked the twins softly before calling again. An answering cry came from my left and several more from my right. I went for the call from my left since it was seemingly alone.

"I am Nova." Said the little mech on my left. "And I am Galaxia." Said the little femme on my right. I was a little startled since twins were usually the same gender, though it was not unheard of.

"Ah." I murmured, the two falling silent as I tried to navigate by ear, the newborn cuddling into Galaxia's servos miserably.

The cries lead me to a Sparkling held loosely in the servos of a half-conscious mech Youngling I vaguely remembered seeing in the class down the hall from where I was learning to be a scout, making him not much younger than myself. He was a mostly-dark communication specialist with long shards of bright metallic-red metal swinging down his back, spiking up as a defence mechanism and antenna.

His blue optics flared slightly as I approached, drawing the little bot closer to his chassis, probably too close to deactivation to be able to feel the hole that took out much of his right abdomen any more than I could feel where most of the plating on my back had been stripped away, laying my gears and circuits bare.

"Are you aware, Axel?" I inquired as I more closer, slowing in case I was not recognised.

"I am aware." He answered weakly. "You are Shader, are you not?"

I nodded, manoeuvring to get a better look at his wound. "I do not believe that this is a fatal wound, though it will stop you from doing much until we can find at least a field-medic." I glanced at his face. "I don't want to have to do any emergency first-aid. I barely passed that course."

He chortled weakly. "Bummer."

I looked back the way we had come.

"Do you mind playing shuttle? I would be easier to manoeuvre just you then having my mobility hindered."

"Sure. Not like I can really do much."

I looked down at the twins and newborn. "You heard that?" I inquired.

The twins nodded and, Galaxia having a firm hold on the newborn, bounced over and clambered into the circle of Axel's servos with the young Sparkling he already had a hold of.

Getting a good grip on the other bot's legs, I began the process of moving back towards the whimpering Sparklings.

*****

We had taken refuge in the shell of what was once, presumably, a storage hanger.

There were eleven Sparklings and seven Younglings (mostly having been protected by the larger bots and femmes around them). Axel and I had further found an adult femme, called Apex, who had lost her Sparkling and her legs in the explosion, and an ancient mech called Sandrock whom I recognised as being a regular visitor to the medical studies wing of the academy.

As the most functional semi-adult, I was given the grim task of locating parts for Sandrock to use to fix Apex and Axel. I later found out that Sandrock, who had had five of the small Sparklings and two of the Younglings protected between himself and a solid door, had survived with minimal damage because, as a field operative and Chief Medical Officer for exploration teams, he had had armour ten times thicker than then the armour of the average bot commissioned early on in his career.

Apex had been an engineer before she had taken time off for her Sparkling. Her bondmate and Sparkling were dead, so, as Sandrock had sadly confided to me, she likely wouldn't last more than maybe a vorn at most. Fortunately, she was already attempting to teach a little white and metal-grey femme Youngling who called herself Shatterdoll about the bits and pieces of machines she brought the wounded femme.

Of the Younglings, there was the little femme Shatterdoll, the twins Galaxia and Nova, another dark blue and silver femme called Wisteria, and three little mechs, the rust-red Heavyarms, dark green Sabrescout and the off-white and black Ghostshell. Some of the older Sparklings had started to grow armour, but none were near old enough to become Younglings and gain colour or choose names.

It was a source of distress for both myself and Sandrock as to how we could look after so many in the middle of a war where anyone could be an enemy and Energon was limited.

-What are we going to do?- I enquired over a private com line whilst trying not to jerk as the big mech welded my circuts back together and covered them with temporarily grafted armour.

There was silence from the mech for a few astroseconds where I could vaguely hear the soft hum of his processor sorting through millions of cycles of data.

-There is a place I know of.- Sandrock's deep, rolling-thunder voice rumbled across the comlink. –It is surrounded by dead planets for some ways and is inhabited by mechanical beings much more primal than ourselves. Furthermore, there were trace amounts of Energon particles amongst the sand that covers it. The council decided it would not be worth the effort of excavating such small amounts of Energon whilst staffing off angry natives.- Here he chortled a bit. –Those mechanical beings may not be Cybertronian, but each and every one of them packs come serious firepower.-

I nodded to show I had heard. –How long will it take us to get there? And what do we do if we are waylaid?-

Sandrock chuckled grimly.

-That's a good question now. Isn't it?-


	2. Chapter 1: Beginnings

**_Disclaimer:_** I own nothing recognised as belonging to others.

**A/N:** I was originally going to make Shader a femme, but then I got the review wondering if Shader was a mech and realised that it was very much unclear as to what 'gender' Shader was. Anywho, I've long since decided that all Cybertronians are asexual, so gender is moot ('femme' definition below). Still, I haven't entirely decided what Shader looks like so it could go either way, mech or femme. Let us know what you think.

**Definitions:**

femme- _noun_: term used to describe Cybertronians with feminine characteristics; many femmes bear a striking resemblance to Earthen human females with kibble added on (see: _kibble_), but not all adhere to this model; although robots are, technically, androgynous, many of the Cybertronian breed have psychological differences that emulate masculine or feminine characteristics

kibble- _noun_: seemingly unnecessary parts of a Transformer's alternate mode that appear on his/her person in robot mode (i.e., "door wings," "wheels on heels," etc.)

* * *

I felt older than I should have.

I had lost track of time since Cybertron fell, but it was likely dozens of vorns ago.

As soon as the other Younglings could function as adults, I had started scouting for others, to find out what was happening with the war.

Sandrock had understood.

Axel had not.

I had been, and still was, the stand-in Parental Unit for the Sparklings and Younglings who had survived. Sandrock had understood that I was too young, maturing too fast.

With Apex long-since offline, the stress would have broken me.

So I floated through space with three of the Autonomous Robotic Organisms from Planet Psi-3082 of the Apalka Quadrant, Native designation: Zi.

These beings, called Zioc Androids or 'Zoids' on their home planet, were considered primitive only because they had never evolved the programs for vocalising or transmitting words in any language. They were able to learn and understand language, but unable to 'speak'. They were very much, on a larger scale, like some cassette-bots.

Does that make me like a cassette-carrier, I wonder?

As we rested on a moon in a small solar-system, overlooking a small blue, green and brown planet, the three Feline-Type Zoids leaning against me, I wondered about the only cassette-carrier I had ever met.

Soundwave had been a superior of my Parental Unit before both my Parental units were terminated in a core-malfunction that offlined more than a hundred bots. When I had been very young, I had wandered away from my Paternal Unit while visiting his workplace and somehow made my way into the Communications Room where Soundwave had been working. He had looked down at me with his red optics for a few kliks before inquiring if I would like to watch him work. I'd fallen into recharge on his lap and had woken being carried back to my berth by my Paternal Unit.

He had been quite flustered, as I recall.

After my Parental Units were terminated, Soundwave himself had arranged for me to attend the Academy. I'd been on my way to see him at his request when Tyger Pax was attacked.

One of my greatest regrets was being sidetracked by a now-offlined classmate. If I hadn't been sidetracked, I might have made it to Soundwave.

I suppose my affection for Dash and Sprint, the two Lightning Saix on my team, and Masker, the Helcat, were based on the affection I had felt for Ravage, the Feline-cassette I had been closest to.

I suppose one of the greatest problems with being alone in space with non-speaking mechanoids was that there was too much time to think.

I took a last glance at the oddly beautiful planet and fell into recharge.

*****

It took me a few astroseconds to realise something had set off my frequencies.

It pulsed as few more times before falling into a steady throb across my sensors. A glance said the Zoid had picked it up to a lesser extent.

It was...familiar.

I tilted my head slightly as I stared down at the green-blue-brown planet.

It felt...like home.

I stood and transmitted my intention of landfall to the planet, intending to find the source of the signal.

The three Zoids responded with affirmatives and intent to follow, also curious about the odd signal.

It took time to find matter needed to create makeshift barriers for breaking the atmosphere, but there was a surprising amount of space metal on the moon we were on, and we were soon on our way, timing entry to land on the landmass from where the signal was coming from.

*****

I found myself both fascinated and disgusted by the lifeforms on the planet.

They had to be amongst the most inept creatures I had ever seen, and I'd seen dozens of organic lifeforms before.

They had neither scales nor fur nor feathers. Their skin wasn't even very tough or thick. Their teeth were blunt and had their claws were nonexistent. Their digest systems were wasteful, causing them to have to consume sustenance daily. Their lives were so short.

...And yet...And yet...

They were so ingenious. They made up for lack of natural weapons by using tools. They build buildings and made clothes to protect themselves. They domesticated some of the more primitive organisms and cultivated edible vegetation to sustain themselves. They learnt and adapted so fast.

If Cybertronians were like humans, we would likely be much more advanced than we were.

The four of us wandered across the continent, four giant mechanical Felines who dwarfed the native peoples, following an obscure signal.

The humans, when we saw them, ran from us, terrified.

It was late into the twelfth night cycle on the planet that we found the source of the signal.

It was in a large human construction site beside a large 'water' channel.

Having Dash and Sprint wait on a nearby rock formation, Masker and I crept down into the valley, Masker cloaking himself and my black on black armour muting the nanites to cut down on light reflection, instead causing the colour to 'devour' light.

There was a human construction site coming up around the source of the rapidly fading signal. A channel of common liquid elements called 'water' ran through the valley, causing me to wonder if they were building another 'bridge' structure across it like they did to other such channels.

As we neared the primitive construction site, Masker peeled off to the left while I took the right.

The site was still young, so very little had been built. Just some organic scaffolding and parts of walls.

I crept into the dark shell of the large structure, deftly avoiding the humans who wandered around, presumably guards.

The signal got stronger as I turned a corner into a large 'room' and it was as if everything else faded away...

It was like being born again.

*****

It said to wait, so I waited in a cave deep in the mountains around what would later be Hoover Dam, my Zoid team waiting with me.

Time is an odd thing for races who live for so long. Vorns can pass without notice at some points, but even breems can last an eternity if you are waiting with nothing to occupy your time.

I'd sent out a signal almost right away when I left the All Spark, calling my faction to me, letting them know it was important but not why it was important. If my transmission was intercepted by either the Autobots or, Primus forbid, the Decepticons, the All Spark, the _Creator of our race,_ would become little more than a bargaining chip or a _commodity_ to be used.

But, as the All Spark commanded, asked, pleaded, I had agreed to Its will.

I became a Ghost in Its system, so to speak; an unknown variable, a wild card.

Just the Maverick it needed.

_**It had a plan**_**.**

So I waited, stationary and in a state of partial hibernation, listening to the radio and television waves, my new Bond to the All Spark a soft, comforting throb in my Spark.

And then came the Internet.

* * *

Review.

Let me know: Mech or Femme. Or possibly androgenous/hermaphrodite.


	3. Chapter 2: Start To Waltz: War

**_Disclaimer:_** I own nothing recognised as belonging to others.

The poll is still open for Shader's gender. Mech, femme or androgeous, you choose. I'll probably leave it open until the end of the next chapter.

* * *

There were _Aftbots_ and _Decepticreeps_ on the planet, MY PLANET, and my faction wouldn't be here for another two earth years.

How did I know this?

It was _all over the fragging military database!_

A pair of 'Cons had attacked a military base over in Qatar. There were reports of a driverless police interceptor with 'To Punish and Enslave' decals. A driverless yellow camero was reported to be making its way through California.

If the All Spark hadn't assured me this was predicted, accounted for and, indeed, expected, I would have thrown a 'hissy-fit' worthy of Deathscythe.

I still wasn't pleased and the Zoids were starting to pick up human body-language, if the glances and amused sounds they were making were any indication.

'_A Plan is in motion, My Own._' The All Spark murmured in my processors an orn or so later, speaking as though distracted. '_Progress is necessary. Do not interfere with the battle.__Trust in progress. Believe in design. Retrieve the Harmonic One and make repairs.__'_ It gave the impression of regret and age-old weariness. '_One can only continue forward.'_

"_But..._" I tried, getting a bad feeling.

It sent an impression of shaking its 'head' and 'smiling' sadly. _'__There is no other applicable choice, My Own.__ No plan survives contact with the enemy. Remain vigilant__. Life must continue. Life requires evolution.'_

"_I don't like this," _I hissed back across the Bond, "_If you weren't who and what you are, I would have said you were glitched to Pit and back with this slagging plan."_

The 'voice' of the All Spark was almost sly. '_But I am I and you are you. And what you are is one of my own Ultima. Your coding won't let you back down from this challenge. Not when so much is at stake. Not when __**I **__am at stake__**.'**_

"_Alright." _I sighed through my intake valves. "_Let me know when to move. I'll be performing systems checks until then."_

'_As you wish, My Own.'_ The All Spark agreed, the constant love it held for all of its children flaring for me across our Bond before fading to a dull hum.

For the first time in the vorn since I had found the All Spark's Cube-form, I stood slowly, absently pulling vegetation out of my joints and banging bits of armour to loosen clumps of dirt.

One of the downsides of having closefitting armour was the difficulty in getting absolutely clean.

As I banged my thigh plating, a family of mature groundhogs tumbled out and scurried off.

I watched them disappear into the underbrush for a moment before my spinal plating bristled in our equivalent of a shudder.

"...That's disgusting."

My Zoid team, having never gone into stasis to begin with, moved easily around me, proving their assimilation of human behaviour by 'snickering'.

Scanning myself to ensure there were no more 'fuzzy surprises' hidden in my armour and wires, I shook off the last of the dirt I could and made for the river, working my joints to see how much work I'd need, absently running my tapered claws across the engravings in my shell.

It was rare for transformers to get engravings for anything less than military or law ranking markings, but Sandrock had had graceful scrolling done into the edges of his armour. Curious and adoring the subtle, beautiful patterns, I had created designs and patterns, dots and swirls and stars, spiralling galaxies, letters and words hidden in supernovas, and I had begged him to engrave them into my shell. All my engravings, even the ones I had learnt to do myself, were sharply, professionally indented into my armour and kibble, black on black. I lightly ran my claws over the only coloured engraving on my entire frame.

A splash of vibrant crimson red in the middle of my chassis, like someone and thrown a small paint shell at me, leaving a vaguely star-shaped red splash.

It was in remembrance of my Parental Units, who, when I was just a small red-black-framed Sparkling with odd violet optics, had called me, with their deep rumbling voices, their 'Red Star'.

I try not to think of what it means when I remember my Parental Units had the sharp, clear voices needed for the communications network.

Or that they both had red optics when Sandrock softly explained to me long ago that Royal Blue and Noble's Crimson optics were needed for the rare Ultra Violet optics I have...

...If you ignore it, maybe it'll go away...

*****

I sat in a deep pond up-river from the dam, the water feeling odd as it flowed through my circuits and around my frame, sloshing loose the dirt and pebbles I hadn't managed to shake out.

I understood now why the Zoids enjoyed it so much. Dash and Sprint were making a game of completely submerging themselves and playing tag across the rocky bottom of the clear pond while Masker lounged beside me, mostly submerged, in the currents of the inlet from the river.

It was very relaxing to feel so many currents brushing against my plating and the mildly sensitive indents of my engravings, washing out with ease what would normally take scrubbing to get out.

I ran my claws across the words and signs engraved into my left thigh plating, tracing the names of those who called me 'Leader'. The Younglings and Sparklings I had raised, Sandock who was our rock of stability, the Neutrals who had founds us and stayed with us as the war escalated, the small band of desperate Femmecons who had fled when Megatron disappeared and the Fallen commanded all femmes be terminated, 'Con or not, the Zoids who had found a home with us; they were all there.

Shatterdoll, my dearest friend and closest confident, alternately loved and loathed my engravings.

I was absently scratching the grit from Shatterdoll's name-sign when the dull 'fwump-fwump-fwump' of helicopters hit my audio sensors.

I absently reached out and uprooted a small sapling of the birch variety, extending my sensors out to locate the multiple 'copters I could hear.

They were heading towards the dam and would pass over the pond we were bathing in.

Allow me a moment to angst...

That done, I gently rapped Masker on the head and waded into the deeper parts of the pond where I could sit and have several metres of water-space above my head.

Conveying what was happening to my Zoids, Masker waded in and again settled beside me while Dash and Sprint temporarily ceased their game until the 'copters were out of range.

Now comfortably seated on the sandy and pebbly bottom, I lay back to watch the play of light and water above me, absently stripping the sapling of branches and leaves.

With a twitch of my helm, the external 'spine' and 'tail' running down my backstruts clicked free of the magnetic holders and slid over my shoulder like a human femme's long braid. This 'braid', however, was fitted with a spear-like tip and retractable blades near the end that flared out at a flexing of a tendon-strut. Attached to the base of my cranium by Sandrock and Dissonant as a back-up and melee weapon, the 'tail' reacted both like a tail for added balance and as a scorpion-like weapon when my hands were busy.

The birch sapling was put to work picking and rubbing to loosen the dirt in the more delicate joints around the blades.

I glanced up as the choppers as they passed overhead.

I sharpened my scanners when I caught the Cybertronian radiation for two of the humans and the more subtle, obscure spark-like signature in one of the two; an older adolescent male from the feedback.

The spark-like signature was eerily familiar, but wouldn't show up on most sensors or scanners unless one knew what to look for.

I couldn't place where the pseudo-spark signature was familiar from.

Staring through light and water in the direction of the chopper thoughtfully, I narrowed my optics and opened my Link to the All-Spark

"_What is this?"_ I enquired neutrally.

The All-Spark, momentarily startled by my blunt question and the data I had sent, 'peered' at the human through my sensors.

Pause.

'_Huh. So that's where I put It.'_ Pause. '_Explains a lot.'_

I performed a full-frame twitch when the All-Spark blocked the Link, though I could still feel Its amusement and frankly wicked glee.

I hesitantly went back to work on my arm-blade(1).

"I'm beginning to wonder about that fragger." I vocalised to Masker, who twitched his tail in response.

*****

Clean and dry, I crouched, camouflaged by a corpse of trees, above the Hoover Dam as a large mech I vaguely recognised as the former Lord High Protector burst out of a tunnel, only to be joined by a truly impressive Seeker.

I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but their voices carried.

My Spark shivered in my chassis.

I transformed and slunk off, following the trail of All-Spark energy. Once I hit open ground, my team fell in around me.

*****

Dash and Sprint were stationed outside the human metropolis called 'Mission City' while I went with Masker into the city, having swapped my transformation schematics from the Helcat/Lightning Saix mixed Zoid, which were still stored on my CPU, to the schematics of An all-black Ferrari-F430 I had scanned as we slunk in through the upper-class suburbs west of where the Autobots and Decepticons were just beginning to engage.

I loitered down the road from the Autobots, trying to pick out which of the five mechs was the 'Harmonic One'.

The big black one and the medic were out, as was the Prime who made my Spark shiver in the same manner as Megatron had, so that left the very young yellow mech and the older, smaller silver mech.

Making a choice as I watched the smaller silver mech, now known as 'Jazz', separate from the others, I chose to follow the silver mech at a distance, the cloaked Masker following across the rooftops.

Because, despite having his legs blown off, the yellow Bumblebee remained in the company of others. Prime would be fine on his own, but, despite his obvious skill, Jazz was smaller than all the Decepticons and would fall in a frontal fight.

When he left his comrades to bide time, Jazz knew he was going to die.

My Spark began shivering and tugging again, distracting me as Jazz attacked a large tank Decepticon.

A shot was fired and rubble fell, causing me to lose sight of Jazz.

I drove into an alleyway and transformed, using my claws to climb the buildings to get a better view.

I reached the top in time to see Megatron drop Jazz on the roof of a building and land on him.

'_Save him.'_ The All-Spark commanded, voice hard with resolve.

"You wanna piece of me?!"

White noise.

All-Spark energy shot down my left arm, transforming it into a projectile rifle.

"No. I want two!"

Aim.

Fire.

Noise.

The projectile impacted with Megatron's right arm, glancing off the elbow bearing, continuing, then glancing off the left eldbow bearing, causing the Decepticon Overlord to lose his hold on the severely damaged Autobot.

The badly damaged mech's fall was softened by a tree and then a car.

Megatron turned and our optics met for a moment; Ultra Violet and Noble's Crimson.

Connection.

Surge.

Recognition.

Surprise.

'_Not yet, My Ultima!'_

I was down the alley and away, Megatron in pursuit.

A Call from the Overlord.

I paused and began to turn, his shadow nearly upon me.

'_Not yet!'_

The All-Spark Reached and Pulled.

* * *

(1) Like the one Optimus has in the movies, only looks more like a big-ass hunting knife.

Yes, I have given the All-Spark a quirky personality, complete with defects. It will be popping up often.

In the last scene, Shader was being influenced by the All-Spark so some of his actions were not his own.

The title _Ultima_ will be explained eventually.

Review or PM your vote.


	4. Chapter 3: Start To Waltz: Peace

**_Disclaimer:_** I own nothing recognised as belonging to others.

Polls are still up on mech or femme. Will be announced next chapter.

I was tired writing this chapter so cut me some slack.

* * *

I smashed into the asphalt of a street several blocks away, shoulder first.

Taking a moment for my processors to figure out which way was up, my scanners picked up a sound.

Half-way to standing up, I froze.

Two.

...No, three. One was deeper than the others.

I hadn't heard that sound since just after the evacuation ship blew.

A few calls and frantic search turned up a terrified minibot sparkling, an oddly-formed, aggressive middle-sized sparkling and a mellow, confused Supreme-class sparkling.

I sent an angry mental hiss in the All-Spark's direction, terror flooding from my Parental Core Programming when I realised I was very much not equipped to care for more sparkling but my Core Programming not allowing me to leave them alone or with the Autobots.

The All-Spark sent a wave of apology and knowledge. It had the chance and took it.

Life must continue.

I sent grudging acceptance.

'_The Harmonic One.' _It reminded me.

Realising where I was, I sent out a scrambler pulse as I noticed the cameras and camcorders some of the humans around myself and the sparkling had trained on us, stopping transmissions out of the area for a joor or so. Let the human military deal with the evidence.

I picked up the two smaller bots, took the black Supreme's servo and quickly set off down the street to where my GPS was telling me was where Jazz and, hopefully, Masker were waiting.

Jazz was sprawled across the bonnet of a blue car, Masker, favouring his right foreleg and steaming slightly, was crouched beside him, the smoking shell of the Tank-Con not far off down the street.

I released the little Supreme's servo and put the two sparkling down beside Masker, ushering the bigger sparkling closer to the cat-zoid, scanning Jazz's torso and main fuel lines as I did so.

Striding down the street towards the deactivated Con, I triggered the transformation in my right, dominant, arm that brought out the tools mandatory for my Faction that I'd need to cannibalize the parts of the fallen Cybertronian.

I stagged when there was a sudden burst of 'noise' from the All-Spark.

Grief. Pain. Love. Change. Orders.

"_...Red Star..." _Megatron.

'_CHanGe Is-is NeC-EC-eceSSary-ry-Ry...'_

Silence.

The Bond between us was now tedious at best.

The All-Spark was dormant.

Weak.

...Different.

**(space)**

After I'd stabilized Jazz as sensed the medic and frontliner coming our way, I'd encouraged the Supreme to transform back into the black SUV, loaded the dispensing machine into the back compartment and transformed back into the Ferrari form before opening my door for the rather clingy little game-system bot. Masker cloaked himself and left to collect Sprint and Dash so we could meet up at a pre-designated spot outside the city.

We managed to get out easy enough and drove to rural area about half-an-hour from the city limits and down a side road.

Within moment, the three sparkling were clamouring around me for attention.

I opened a compartment in my leg and brought out an Energon ration for them.

**(space)**

Eight 'days' after the All-Spark 'changed', I drove down the highway towards Mission City, the Sparklings recharging with my zoids standing guard back within dense woodland.

I drove listlessly through the streets, monitoring the radio waves and phone lines for any news on what was happening.

The skirmish had been blamed on a terrorist attack and several exploded gas mains. Furthermore, they were on the lookout for an unaccounted-for Decepticon (the police Interceptor), an unknown black Ferrari-F430 and an unknown black Cadillac Escalade, the latter two are wanted for questioning but all three are to be reported and not approached.

I paused in surprise at a light when I noticed the police-former Decepticon turning into an underground parking lot.

Curious, I followed him down to the fifth level where he was apparently waiting for me.

We regarded one another for a time, wary of attacking an unknown.

He crept slightly closer, sending out a subtle scan. I sent one back, causing him to jerk and rev his engine.

A familiar small silver head with four blue optics popped up from behind the dashboard.

I admit, I stalled for a few moments in surprise.

"_**FRENZY?!"**_

(**space)**

Optimus Prime was blank.

There were at least one unknown Cybertronian adult and, if what Samuel Witwicky had said was true, three very young Cybertronians in the battle-zone from eight solarcycles ago.

One of the bystanders had gotten a good shot of the Unknown from behind. Black on black with a 'spine' some of the Femme Decepticons had been fond of before they all mysteriously vanished not long after Megatron went missing. As far as they could tell, the Unknown was a well-maintained upper-class military model with close-fitting armour with some of the most 'excessive bunch of gaudy low-class engravings I have ever seen in my entire lifestream', to quote Ratchet. Their alt-form was a black Ferrari-F430.

Still, if reports were true, this 'bot had gathered the newly-sparked terraformers and made repair to Jazz that saved his life. What was possibly another Cybertronian or drone was seen standing guard over his gravely injured Second in Command, but was unable to be confirmed.

Jazz had been saved by cannibalizing parts from the Decepticon, Brawl, a disgusting if practical procedure known to be utilized by the neutrals based in the Apalka Quadrant.

Optimus' optics dimmed as he thought about his smaller Second in Command.

Jazz had been his Third in Command until Prowl, Optimus' first SIC had gone MIA. His body was never recovered. The loss of Prowl had his Jazz hard and many had questioned if he was fit for the position after the loss of his Sparkmate...

...Until Ratchet had discovered that the Sparkbond was merely strained to near-nonexistance instead of broken.

Jazz had clung to the belief that Prowl would return; a belief that had been slowly becoming weaker.

Optimus blew air out his intake valves, rubbing his own chassis above his Spark, the broken Bond throbbing distantly, as he wandered sadly why Megatron had called for their lost Red Star after denying that it ever existed in the first place for so long but moments before he went offline.

The Prime put down the datapad and left to see how repairs on Jazz were going, not noticing the frame was paused as the bot in the fame glanced over their shoulder with Ultra-Violet optics.

* * *

As if you haven't figured out the subplot by now.

Review and vote. Mech or Femme.


	5. Chapter 4: Start To Waltz: Revolution

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Transformers or Zoids.**

**Been a while since I've updated this, so I hope it was worth the wait.**

**Info on Zoids at the bottom.**

* * *

The carving tool hummed gently in my hand, the short blue laser carving small curls of metal from my thigh plates as I changed the status markers beside the names of the mechs and femmes as Frenzy gave me their status last he heard.

As the little drone scampered around and over my armour, running his tiny pointed fingers over my engravings in wonder, part of my attention was on the Saleen Mustang on the other side of the closed-off picnic area.

I hadn't recognised Barricade because I once knew him as Runner. We ran in some of the same circles before the war, went to many of the same parties, so I knew who he _had been_, but not really who he _was_.

That didn't change the fact that he had been relatively high on my possible romance list, even if he didn't attend the Academy. The Runner I knew was, to be blunt, an 'adrenaline junkie'.

No one went as fast through a street drag-race as Runner. He'd had a fierce, joyous grin back then, nothing beating the thrill of the race...

Barricade was a quiet, calculating mech with a mean streak necessitated by Decepticon lifestyle. He still loved to go fast, but he had lost the grin that I and many others had found attractive. Frenzy informed me that he changed after Motorhead was offlined. Groundhog and Rollerforce were waiting on Mars with the other Decepticons for Megatron's return.

A part of me felt that Barricade was just sad and tired; waiting for everything to go back to the way it used to be...

The shy little mini-bot adored him though.

The Ultima Programming in me said that he was a carrier of a dormant Penult Program. Should I choose to activate the program, his loyalty would default to the nearest Ultima.

Me.

The Ultima Programming was a last ditch defence of the All Spark. Primus has his Primes, Unicon has his Fallen, Cybertron had its Lord High Protector and the All-Spark has the Ultima-Penult-Antepenult Programs.

At any given time, there are never more than seven bots with Ultima Programs, and each had different specialisations. As the 'Shadow' Ultima, I was not the frontline Ultima like 'Shield' Ultima or 'Assault' Ultima, nor the politician like 'Mirror' Ultima or 'Deep' Ultima. 'Cyber' Ultima was mostly around in the event of mass spread of a virus through either Cybertronian or Cybertronian technology while 'Vector' Ultima was around to actually _spread_ specific virus' through either tech or Cybertronian means.

But the Shadow Ultima was different.

If things happened too quickly to be fixed, or the other Ultima were unable to do anything, the Shadow Ultima, the All-Spark's last ditch defence, began a 'rebel' response within the population. The Shadow Ultima was the one activated when a direct approach would fail, a motley of spy, assassin and rebel leader with enough flexibility to adapt to almost any situation.

That was not how I felt I functioned.

But, looking back, that was how I had been spending the last several hundred vorns since the fall of Iacon.

I considered the list of Sparklings and Younglings I'd sometimes starved to raise, the Femmecons I'd been tempted to turn away but had decided could stay at the last minute and became the strongest line defending the Neutrals who arrived before and after they came, the Seeker Trine that was too pacifistic to join the Decepticons with their model-type or the Autobot cause, the gestalt who had two members, Build-It and Break-It, who's own creators were a high-ranking Decepticon gestalt call the Constructacons.

It was troubling that my Ultima Program was already half-way activated whilst I was so young...

I settled back to continue my inscribing.

**(space)**

Even when Decepticons began turning up half a metacycle later, Frenzy and Barricade chose to stay with me and the Sparklings.

Every so often I would 'check in' on Samuel Witwicky.

Initial surveillance showed that he had allowed his friendship with the Autobots and his girlfriend, Mikaela Banes, to eclipse his prior friendship with his childhood best friend, Miles Lancaster, and strain his relationship with his parents, Ron and Judy Witwicky.

Furthermore, his energy output had increased by nearly one hundred and seventy percent. The Spark-signature within him was still dampened, but had gotten significantly stronger in terms of stability.

It took me a while to be able to figure out why the signature was recognisable to me, and the consequences that came from it.

Sam's Spark-signature was very young and very close to being on the same wavelengths as my own, the spikes and vibration frequency close enough to be a full sibling Spark to my own.

I kept that to myself.

I was perhaps a full metacycle later that I registered a very faint, cautious signal with the 'earmarks' of a Neutral Forward Team I was familiar with.

Pulling myself out of the metal heap of the junkyard we were currently sequestered in for the metal the Sparklings needed to grow, I shook myself to settle shifted armour back into place while opening a frequency enough that the team leader would be able to register my general area.

Two solar cycles later, during a vicious thunderstorm, eight mechanoids made landfall.

One mech, three femmes and four Zoids.

Eclipse, the leader of the Forward Team, was a former Autobot who had been so slagged that his Spark should have been extinguished long before he was found. Less than fifteen percent of his frame had been anything resembling functioning, but somehow his battle-computer, a prototype even before the war, had integrated deeply enough into his core processor that it had become more than just an addition piece of hardware, making it possible for the computer to take control and emergency re-route all Energon and Coolant to the Spark, leaving the rest of the chassis to grey out.

This occurred because Eclipse literally got his processor blown out, destroying his personality, his memories and his non-battle-computer files, though his factory 'barcode' and serial number had been recorded for when and if the war ever ended.

When his shell had been snatched from an astral-stream by the Femmecons for scavenging, they had thought he was offlined until the field medic, Ghosthand, had noticed the activity in the chest cavity.

From there, Sandrock had been called into space to stabilise the Spark as the shell would not have been able to survive the trip through the dense atmosphere of Zi.

The building of the new frame had been split between Sandrock, Shatterdoll and the Femmecon Disturbia, with most of the designing and weapons being chosen by Disturbia, who now considered Eclipse her Creation.

Originally of Praxian Security Personnel design, Disturbia had designed Eclipse to be provocatively attractive in every way to as many different model-types as possible, while still remaining close to the original design as possible.

He was tall and streamline, a few sharp angles, with light-sparkle white paint-nanites with solid shiny black accents and some rainbow trimming. There were many upon many thermal blades built into his frame, along with rail-guns and claws. As a leader and tactician for a Forward Team, he had a most powerful processor and the Battle-computer he had been found with (having been a very experienced battle-computer) was fixed to optimum efficiency and refitted into his frame. His preferred zoid alt-form was a modified Blade Liger, and was often accompanied by Kirak, a dusky grey Dark Spiner who had originally paired with Discordia before transferring its loyalty when a bonded Dark Spiner and Killer Dome pair attached themselves to the Femme-con.

His sensory 'wing' panels had also been altered away from the traditional 'butterfly' design into a style that was superficially more like the wings of a dragonfly. There were two wing-like blades on either side of his spinal column that, when activated, would spring open. The two blades spread at one hundred and sixty degree angles, transparent gossamer filament spread between the two appendages like shimmering rainbow wings. The sensory output when wide open was around seventeen times that of the average Praxian sensory panels.

Aside from his Spark and Battle-computer, only a red-gold-alloy chevron had been rescued at the demand of the Battle-computer, identifying the part as the sole identifying feature of the mech from before. Sandrock confirmed that the mech had been part of the mass-produced Security-bots, and, as such, the Chevon would, indeed, likely have been the only thing that separated this mech from the others.

When Sandrock had discovered a strained Sparkbond on the mech, seven additional locks were added to Eclipse's new Adamantine Sparkchamber in case Eclipse was just too irresistible for some unscrupulous bot to resist. Only myself, Disturbia and Sandrock had the code for the final lock.

I, personally, found it hilarious that the patient and stoic black and white tactician was programmed to speak and walk like a high-class pleasure bot.

The femmes with him were the Femmecon Ribbon and the Glitter Twins, Glimmer and Shimmer, the latter two of whom were amongst the Sparklings Shader had raised.

Ribbon was a laid-back, maternal femme of military-type frame built for mid- to long-range mêlée combat; flexible and fast, but still able to take hits and pack a punch in a pinch, as such her army-green and burnt-orange frame was svelte, long-limbed and, due to her heavy armour, weighing nearly three times what one would think at first glance. Both her alt-form and her tan partner, Samba, were the dog-like Houndsoldiers, heavily armoured, heavily weaponized and very combat flexible.

Glimmer and Shimmer were identical light-infanty/stealth scouting types in the higher end of light-weights, armoured with bright silver chrome plating lined in shiny red for Shimmer and gleaming gold for Glimmer. What wasn't apparent at first glance, nor discovered until near-adult-hood, was that the two had assimilated both their Descat partners' ability to maintain their high speed drives for extended periods at up to 420km/h, and their laser-reflective Metal Ice Armour. Sandrock and Shatterdoll theorised that this came about because of their fast bonds with the silver Descats, Shatter and Shine, during the ends of their Sparkling period and beginning of the First Youngling period. They were the first of the Cybertronians to bond with their Zoid partners.

Superficially, the twins were cheerful and easily amused, just enough to be passed off as inconsequential 'bimbos', but were, in fact, highly intelligent Black-Ops and Intelligence Field Agents who had trained under the former Head of the Assassin Syndicate of Kalis, Ghostblade, who was so well-known and respected that his operatives were known as 'Ghosts', despite being merely a branch of a Syndicate known as the 'Web' of Cybertron.

Ghostblade had turned up early on the war with a rather large group of refugees from Kalis, including a solid half of the Kalis Youth Sector and as much of the Energon reserves as the ships could carry, the rest sequestered away in bunkers and vaults throughout the ruined city. Acting as a ranking officer and head of Black Ops, Ghostblade still led small groups to Cybertron, to Kalis, to retrieve the dwindling Energon Reserves not yet found by the Autobots stationed there.

Eclipse's forward team was the best in the business, surpassing even the Autobot's and Decepticon's best.

Eclipse had been subtle, using Kirak's Jamming Blade Array to keep the signal nearly unnoticeable, so it was with some surprise when my group arrived near to where Eclipse' team had made landfall, and found the Autobots already there.

Only the upper-light-weight yellow scouting type, Bumblebee, was nowhere to be seen, while the agitated silver mech I had saved in Mission City was listlessly seeking and calling through the hilled red desert outside Las Vegas, uncaring of the rain and the calls to be careful from both his wary comrades and the human military.

Maintaining radio silence, I waved back Barricade back, murmuring to him to take the Sparklings back to the road, and for Sprint and Dash to shadow them from a distance, before transforming and moving off with Masker, cloaking as I went.

It was maybe three minutes later that I came across the Descat, Shatter, crouching in a trench not far from its crater, having received damage to its hind leg during landfall. I transformed and crouched behind it in the ditch as Masker stood guard, using my frame and arm to hide the light of the lasers and wielding kits as I did a field patch-up and sent Shatter off with Masker to join up with Dash and Sprint, before continuing on to the coordinates Shatter had given me for Shine and the twins.

After a short chase from Ironhide, the big black weapons specialist, and a jeep of humans, I scrambled up a steep incline, nearly running headfirst into Ribbon and Samba, who had been separated from the twins and Eclipse just before landfall.

"He wasn't doing too well," Ribbon murmured as we crouched behind a small patch of scrub. "Something happened during landfall and he went off-course, the twins following. I saw them dragging him further into the desert. He appeared to be in shock and catatonic."

"PROWL!"

The three of us started in surprise at the call from the other side of the scrub patch, making a surprising amount of noise as we banged together. Seeing as I was the only one in bipedal form, I reflexively punched the smaller silver bot who rushed through the scrub in the faceplates and transformed, before the three of us took off, the Prime and Ironhide in stumbling pursuit, not as adept at climbing the dunes as our four-legged forms.

Just as we were about to escape the two bots, we tumbled off a steep incline and landed on the twins, Shine, Kirak and Eclipse.

Literally.

Surprisingly close to the road, I rapidly gave out the coordinates to the rest of my group, went bipedal again and lifted the catatonic Eclipse over my shoulder in a 'fireman's' hold and we scattered, Kirak following close on my heels.

**(space)**

Jazz just kept coming.

Nearly a week after they arrived, I still hadn't been able to meet up with the main group and Eclipse was in a daze, Kirak hovering anxiously all the while.

It was on the third day that the black and white mech managed to mumble out that his Spark was throbbing and pulling, an overwhelming drawing leaving his Spark hypersensitive and processors overcharged. The battle-computer did not identify the Autobot as an enemy, but rather quite firmly as an ally.

I had to delve deep into my medical files before coming up with 'Hypersensitive Sparkshock'; meaning the sudden close proximity of his Sparkmate (i.e. Jazz) after the Bond being strained to nothing for so long was causing a sudden influx of energy that left the 'submissive' in a hypersensitive state, waiting for their 'dominant' partner to 'reaffirm' the Bond. Once the Bond was 'reaffirmed', the energy would stabilize, occasionally resulting in a 'Newspark (natural-born) Sparkling'.

My primary concern with this, is that Eclipse, as priorly mentioned, has no memory of his time before his life as a Neutral, meaning that, regardless of the Bond, Eclipse did not know Jazz.

I was not about to let an unknown frag someone I perceived as family while in a vulnerable state, so I waited until he was lucid and explained the situation.

"This draw is all-consuming, Leader." Eclipse bumped his helm into the crook of my neck and shoulder, vocaliser rough and tired. "I just want it to end. It is worse than that worm virus from Catalon Sector." A shudder ran through his frame and Kirak growled unhappily. "Just make it stop…"

I vented and looked around the barn we had taken shelter from the rain in. "Alright. But we'll have to move somewhere more defensible and call at least two of the others to us so we can get you out as soon as it's done. You can make your choice later when your processor is clear."

The mech nodded and shuddered again, dropping into a light recharge while I ran a search on Google Maps for defensible areas nearby and sent for Barricade, Ribbon and Samba, telling the Twins and my Zoids to stay with the Sparklings away from human habitation.

Two days later and with Jazz and the medic hot on our trail, I left Eclipse in an abandoned warehouse in an industrial district on a berth of discarded mattresses to prowl unhappily around the block in my Zoid alt-form, Ribbon and Samba guarding the back of the warehouse while Barricade and Frenzy was idling in an alley just off the road Jazz was calculated to come down. Kirak hovered unhappily by the loading-dock door.

The silver mech shot past me around midnight, and I shot forward and smacked the front end of the lime-coloured Hummer with my paw, causing the medic to fishtail into a wall. A brief scan showed that he was temporarily offline.

Transforming to my root-frame, I rapidly located a port and sent the bare basics of Eclipse's situation into the bot's message inbox.

Then I went back to prowling the block, trying to block out the screaming and keening and scrapes of metal coming from the warehouse, my mood rapidly dropping even further, leaving me seething in a protective rage.

About an hour later I entered the warehouse, unsurprised to find the two passed out. Kicking the smaller bot out of the way, I carried Eclipse out of the warehouse and away.

**(space)**

Having come online sometime earlier and processed the file the Unknown black bot had given him, Ratchet could honestly say he could understand why the black Femme was so agitated.

He had been a little uncertain at first, but if one knew what to look for, it became obvious that the femme had likely originally been a mech who had had a massive Core Coding shift in the Third Youngling Period where the final shifts in coding, programs and the final frame modifications took place. Were she human, she would probably be of a strong athlete's build with little in the chest and hip area and a strongly handsome face.

She was definitely of a high-class military build with the odd structural differences that gave hints of some kind of labouring frame type in her ancestry. Her solid matte black frame with its red 'star' on the torso was also odd, but strikingly attractive. Again oddly, her faceplates was covered by a screen similar to a riot helmet, so he couldn't see her features or optics, telling signs as to whether she was from Decepticon lineage or Autobot.

Ratchet honestly couldn't see why she would tarnish her frame's beauty by engraving it so extensively, even if they were, when he saw them closely, quite pretty and intricate.

He didn't like it when the femme made off with the mech who had once been his good friend Prowl, but didn't move to intercept. Ratchet was, however, almost spurred to action when the rogue Decepticon, Barricade, pulled out of an alleyway to leave with her.

Once he was sure they were gone, Ratchet went to check on Jazz, Optimus in the process.

* * *

**Zoids:**

**Lightning Saix:**

The Lightning Saix is a cheetah-type Zoid evolved from a Helcat using an Organoid System, the Lightning Saix is notable as being an exceptionally manoeuvrable land-based Zoid. It has incredibly high-performance, with exceedingly fast acceleration and a massive top speed. While it cannot make sharp turns while running at its top speed, it can strafe and manoeuvre quite well. The Zoid is also surprisingly stealthy; while not invisible to sight or radar, it is very elusive. The Lightning Saix is well armed, carrying a pair of powerful Pulse Laser Rifles on its back, as well as a pair of small Vulcan Guns in its head. The Saix's Pulse Laser Rifles only point directly forward and cannot be turned, meaning that the Zoid is rather vulnerable to attacks from the flanks or behind. However, the fixed position of the back-mounted weapons is a necessity, as the Saix would lose its balance if the rifles were to turn while running at high speeds. The Lightning Saix can turn its head to use the Vulcan Guns against opponents attacking from the flanks, though, and the Pulse Laser Rifles can still at least point about 5 degrees to either side and about 10 degrees up and downward to give it some freedom of movement, even if only a little. Additionally, the Lightning Saix has a pair of Vertical and Wing Stabilizers, which are located at each side of the Lightning Saix's Pulse Laser Rifles. They serve as to stabilize the Zoid while running at high speeds, and allows the whole kicking power of the Lightning Saix to be transferred to the ground, making sure every ounce of force hits the ground to maximize the Zoid's running efficiency. The stabilizers also help reduce drag and air lift to the Zoid, making it run perfectly steady despite the great and sudden accelerations that can take place while mobilizing.

**HelCat: **The Helcat is a small, high-speed Panther-type Zoid developed primarily for stealth and recon operations. It boasts a multitude of specialised features reflecting its role, such as highly advanced sensors, a heat dispensing system to minimise its heat signature, and a sound muffling system on its legs enabling it to run near-silently. However, the Helcat is best known for its ability to turn invisible thanks to its stealth shield, which enables it to avoid visual detection. However, Zoids with advanced sensory equipment such as the Shadow Fox can see right through the Helcat's stealth shield. In addition, the Zoid is only lightly armed and armored, making it vulnerable to attack if it is spotted. Despite this, it is considered a highly capable machine, and technology used in the construction of the Helcat was carried on to its successor, the Lightning Saix.

**Dark Spiner: **The Dark Spiner is a highly advanced Spinosaurus-type Zoid based on the electronics of the older Dimetrodon, it is the best electronic warfare Zoid ever made. The Jamming Blade fin on its back can jam and intercept communications, interfere with electronic systems, and even flat out disable enemy Zoids without the ability to counter-jam or otherwise shield against its effects. The Spiner's jamming array also has two other abilities; it can generate devastating electromagnetic pulse blasts to disable enemy Zoids, as well as creating an ionization field that deflects enemy weapons fire**. **Unlike previous electronic warfare Zoids, the Dark Spiner is no slouch in direct/close combat either, and its melee abilities are said to be comparable to the Geno Saurer. The Zoid's other notable ability is the capability to combine with the Killer Dome to form the Killer Spiner Fuzor. This fusion is beneficial to both Zoids; although it disables the Jamming Blade, the Dark Spiner is granted the Killer Dome's Gatling weapons and pulse laser array, exponentially increasing its firepower, while the slow and awkward Killer Dome has a fast and nimble steed to carry it.

**Houndsoldier: **The Houndsoldier is a German Shepherd Dog-type Zoid and is designed for both speed and mobility; at 330 km/h, it is one of the fastest Zoids ever created. Additionally, while not as agile as some other Zoids, it is very adept at handling adverse conditions and rough terrain without too much loss of speed. The Zoid's design is very flexible and versatile, allowing it to adapt to different roles. Unlike many other high performance Zoids, the Houndsoldier is rather well armed. The Zoid carries a pair of powerful beam cannons, as well as a quartet of missile launchers facing forward and aft. Its most unusual feature is a pair of lances that can swing forwards, locking in position to impale enemy Zoids. The Houndsoldier is equipped with a power connection port on its back, which allows it to connect modular weapons systems to its own power source, enhancing its combat capabilities.

**Descat**: The Descat (also translated as Death Cat) is a Panther-type Zoid and is truly unique in design, possessing systems and equipment not found on any other Zoid. Its body and systems are refined and tuned to the highest tolerances, giving the Zoid incredibly high performance. With a top speed of 420 kilometres per hour, it was, for its time, one of the fastest Zoids ever developed. The Descat's high-speed drive system allows it to sustain its high speed for extended periods, unlike modern high-speed Zoids like the Lightning Saix. Its speed, combined with its laser-reflective Ice Metal Armour, make the Zoid a very difficult target to bring down. However, the Zoid's most distinctive and unusual feature is its main weapon, the Super Gravity Bullet Cannon. Completely different in designs to the gravity distorting weapons mounted on the Deadborder and Gilvader, the Descat's weapon fires superdense shells. This creates an artificial black hole within the target, either causing the Zoid to implode or tearing it apart. The weapon is effective against even the most powerful of Zoids, having been designed to combat the mighty King Gojoules. It is normally concealed under an armoured panel within the Descat's body; when deployed the Zoid's total height extends to 10.8 metres. To supplement its weapons, the Descat is equipped with a myriad of additional sensors and an advanced radar system. Additionally, it features a power connector port, allowing it to expand its capabilities with various modular weapons systems.


End file.
